Chapter 35 Movie
Movie
My heart sinks at the news I’ve just received. I blink twice, staring at
Mama. She smiles, but it’s not joy behind her eyes. “When did this happen?” I ask, barely above a whisper. She cups my face, her thumb brushing under my eye before she squeezes my nose gently, like I’m still her little girl.
“It happen early this morning. When mi wake up, mi couldn’t even feel miself,” she says softly. My chest tightens. She fainted and was here… alone. If it wasn’t for God—don’t say it, Zara. Please don’t say it.
I squint, trying to keep the tears back. The guilt rushes in, heavy and hot. What kind of granddaughter am I? Zara, yuh did affi leave at some point enuh. You cya blame yourself for not being here.
But she’s in her seventies. She shouldn’t be by herself.
Not anymore. Yuh always deh ya inna the days, that count.
You not the only family member who fi visit.
Except we both know some family only show up when somebody dead or hear seh dem sick.
I come by almost every day. I stay through lunch, talk with her, sit on the veranda and help her move around.
But when night comes, I always leave. I wasn’t here when she needed me.
And this morning… Icould’ve found her… I burst into tears.
“I’m so sorry, Mama.” She tries to pull me back into the present.
“Come on now, Zara. Don’t cry. God is good.” But I’m already sobbing.
“I hope you know I love you. It’s just the responsibilities keeping me away,” I say through the tears. Mama’s always there for everyone. Always. And when she needed someone, when she needed me, I wasn’t there.
“You were there when I needed you the most,” I continue, “and I wasn’t here when you needed me.” She hushes me gently, pulling me into a hug.
“You, Gavin, and Sash always show up. And you have your own family now. Don’t beat yourself up, Zara.” I sigh into her shoulder.
“So… Mommy knows?” I ask once we pull apart. She nods, looking away like she’s hiding something.
“What is it?” I ask. She hesitates. Her hand fidgets with her wedding ring.
“Michelle seh she a take me,” she says quietly.
My breath catches. Take her? She’s leaving?
I know it’s for the best. Mommy’s more stable.
She can be there in ways I can’t always manage.
But still… I visit almost every day. Maybe it’s not enough.
It is enough, Zara. Stop beat up yourself. Be grateful Mama still here.
I nod slowly. “Okay,” I say softly. Mama is still turning her wedding ring, her eyes far off. Maybe thinking about Grandpa. Maybe something else. I hate this situation. I really do. Then, her voice cuts through the silence.
“Mi nah go,” she says.
I blink. “What?”
“Mi nah leave you and the babies.”
I smile, surprised and relieved. “Really?”
“Apart from Nickoi, yuh really nuh have nobody else down here. Inna times like these, yuh need mi ‘round. Mi know yuh nuh always understand the babies.” I chuckle through my sniffles. She’s right.
Some days, I wake up like I got this motherhood thing together, other days, mi a ask miself a wah mi a do?
But now a new question rises. So… who’s going to stay with Mama if she doesn’t go up to foreign?
My smile fades, and a thought creeps in.
“But…” I trail off, voice low. Mama waits, watching me closely.
“You could stay with me?” I ask, voice soft like a suggestion.
Mama beams. “Yes.” But then, just like that, her smile fades. Wah dis now?
“You have a fiancé and your babies enuh, Mama nuh wah come invade unuh privacy,” she says, trying to play it off with a light chuckle.
I stare at her. Is she being serious right now?
Privacy? I don’t care about privacy. I’m not even thinking about asking Nickoi for permission.
Mama’s safety comes first. And if he has a problem with it? Me and the babies can move out.
Twenty minutes later, after helping Mama get ready and packing a small suitcase, we pull up at home.
It’s 7 PM when we step inside. “I can never get over how big and nice this house is,” Mama smiles as she slips off her shoes.
The scent of curry hits me instantly, curry chicken, maybe shrimp too and the TV’s on, but it doesn’t sound like anything Nickoi would normally watch.
I squint, sniff the air again. No sah… that can’t be him.
I push Mama’s suitcase aside and close the front door behind me.
As we walk through the living room, I spot the twins on the carpet, clean, happy, dressed in matching Polo onesies. My polo babies.
“Who’s here?” I ask aloud, even though I know they can’t answer me.
“Hey, Zara. Evening Miss Sandra,” Nicki calls from the kitchen and I glance up.
Oh, she’s here.
“Hey,” I reply with a small smile.
“How yuh do?” Mama asks, moving toward the babies, eyes softening the minute she sees them.
“Mi alright enuh,” Nicki responds warmly.
“You a cook curry chicken?” I ask, the smell now fully curling into my senses.
“Yeh… Curry chicken and shrimp,” she answers, and I celebrate inside. You nuh just eat?
“Just did eat shrimp still,” I tell her with a grin.
“Eeeh?” Nicki raises her brows, laughing.
“I’ll take the chicken though,” I say, then glance at the twins. They’re giggling now, Zahira reaching her arms toward me. I scoop her up and Zahir stares at me, eyes wide. Jealous already. Mama laughs. I lean over and kiss his lips gently. He giggles, flashing those perfect dimples.
“You’re so tuteee,” I whisper, then glance down at Zahira, who’s fully fascinated with my earrings now, trying to pull them. The front door opens. I know that sound. Nickoi. Perfect timing.
“Mama?” he greets as he steps in.
She chuckles. “You just a reach in?”
“Yah, mi just a fawud from ova’ mi G yard,” he tells her, his voice relaxed. Zahir coos and I look down. He’s crawling across the floor now, distracted by his toy. Nothing too serious. Then Nickoi leans in close, his lips brushing my ear.
“Mami,” he murmurs. Just like that, my whole body reacts. Why him always do this when people deh roun’? I smile at Zahira, pretending to focus, but mi brain mash up.
“How was the food?” he asks softly.
“Um… good,” I answer, flustered. He bends down and picks up Zahir.
“Member mi wah talk to yuh later enuh,” he reminds me. I nod, still smiling like a fool.
“Da,” Zahir says suddenly, catching us all off guard. Wait—excuuuuuuse me? My heart stops. Nickoi freezes too.
Nicki’s eyes widen. “A him first word dat?” Mama walks closer, smiling from ear to ear. Pure joy in her face. Everybody’s lit up. It’s pure happiness in the room. Iscramble for my phone and hit record.
“Yes,” I say, grinning so hard my face hurts.
“Say it again,” Nickoi tells him.
Zahir watches him, then says it louder. “Da-da.” It comes out perfectly this time.
***
It’s a little after ten; the twins are finally asleep, Mama’s door is closed, and the house settles into quiet.
Nickoi works in his office. I sit cross-legged on the bed, finishing the last line of tomorrow’s lesson plan.
As soon as my pen lifts, a yawn sneaks out.
Sleep is calling meee. I snap the notebook shut and slide off the mattress just as Nickoi steps in.
He doesn’t say a word, only sits at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on mine. The silence pulls tight.
“Yuh sleepy?” I ask, just to break it.
“Nah, sah.”
“I am,” I whisper, rubbing my eyes. I still get butterflies in my belly. I still have a crush on him even though he’s already mine. Crazy right? I still catch butterflies when he looks at me like that. Foolish, maybe, but sweet. I pull the blanket to my chin and tell him what’s been weighing on me.
“Mama fainted this morning… and no one was there. So she’s staying here from now on.” His brows draw together.
“Wah cause that?”
“Not sure, but she’s good now.”
“Jah… Mi o’ mek aunty run a check on her tomorrow,” he says, already solving the problem. That simple promise loosens a knot in my chest.
“Thanks babe.” He moves closer, stretching out beside me, and the mattress dips with his weight. This man is trouble in black, plain tee, track pants, and that aura that steals breath. I still feel shy sometimes, crazy as that sounds.
“You good?” he asks, searching my eyes. Instead of talking, I let my eyes answer for me. He smiles, slow, knowing. My heart trips.
“Everybody know you a mi woman cause words inna the street. So mi wah know yuh Gov when mi nuh round yuh zi mi?” he tells me. He reaches for a small box on the nightstand and set it on my lap.
“Open it.” I lift the lid and suck in a breath. A compact 9 mm rests inside, matte black.
“Nickoi…”
“Mi know you’re not about this life even though yuh did mek it clear seh yuh wah be apart of my world. So, now you are,” I said that? Yes you did.
I nod. “Uh… Okay.”
“You said you wanted to be part of my world,” he reminds me gently. “If you ride with the Don, you ride strapped.” His tone is matter-of-fact, but his hand squeezes mine. “I’ll get you proper training.”
“I hope I never need it.”
“Me too,” he nods. I sigh, closing the box.
The weight of it is reassuring. He tucks the gun away, then rolls onto his side, head nuzzling my neck.
For a moment we just breathe. The house is quiet enough to hear the twins sighing in their sleep on our monitors we keep on the nightstand.
I climb across the bed and lay on his chest, inhaling his aroma.
His hand slips to my waist… then lower. Firm grip on my ass.
I let out a soft laugh and peek up at him.
His attention on his phone, I smile down at his fingers playing with the edge of my shorts.
“What’s that?” I ask, curiosity bubbling.
“Mi just a look pon the video,” he mumbles, clearly amused by something.
I lean over, my chin on his chest. He tilts the screen and I see the two of us, he zooms in on my ass, then his hand gripping my hair, me hugging his waist. My hair spilling over, him shirtless, both of us looking like the perfect match, like we could be on Pinterest.
“Aww,” I smile and snatch the phone before he can pull it back. He doesn’t fight me.
“Don’t go in a mi gallery though.” He bites his lip. So basically he wants me to.
“Why not?” I tease, already swiping.
“Zara…” he playfully warns. But I already see the “Hidden” folder. Of course I press it. I know what to expect. It was never a secret. “Zara,” he repeats, more ‘serious’ now, but it’s too late. His Face ID unlocks it. A grid of thumbnails loads and my heart skips a beat. My mouth hangs open.
“I am a rude likkle girl…” I mutter and he chuckles.
“Mi tell yuh nuh go in deh.”
“No sah… this what y’all be doing when I’m sleeping?” I say, pretending to be an onlooker. He’s watching me now, clearly entertained.
“How dem make yuh feel?” I tap the screen and one of the videos starts playing, just enough to catch a whisper of my voice moaning his name, his fingers tracing my skin, and his phone propped against a pillow.
“Sexy…” I laugh breathlessly, half hiding my face. “Grown…”
He leans up on his elbows. “So yuh like dat?”
“Do I like it? My favorite part is how yuh angle the phone like you a content creator,” I blush. He starts laughing, voice raspy.
“Mi affi get the angles right.”
“I seeee,” I laugh. He’s literally catching everything.Ugh.
My moans are one thing, but the view, and this man’s face expressions?
?? Oh. My. God. I pause, glance back at the screen, then lock the phone and toss it beside us.
“We aguh do more?” I ask, sitting on his waist. He grips my thighs and smirks. His eyes answer for him.
“From yuh consent to it… we can make it happ’n.”